Electric Minded

You aren't a flower

2021-12-02T14:04:00.001-06:00

You aren’t a flower Darling, you are not a flower. You are not meant to just be seen. You are not beautiful for a moment, nor weak in the knees for those god-damn bees. You are not petals to be picked for the haves and the have-nots then discarded to the ground as you shrivel up. You are not meant to be picked and used until you die in their upturned palms. You are not meant to last a season. Darling, you are not the leaves You are not meant to crunch beneath their feet. You are not changing hair colors and styles Nor just a princess dressed in yellows, pinks and reds. You aren’t meant to just fall for the first guy who walks by. Nor meant to be used in a sunny spotlight to help Everyone else around as you go dead and dry. You aren’t meant to last a season. Darling, you are not the trunk. You are not your size nor meant to be ignored. You aren’t the home for others to dig in, scratch at, Claw out and use for a temporary reprieve from their problems. You aren’t the stump left for dead by those who think They are more important than you. Nor are you meant to be picked at, written on, or barked at without your consent. You aren’t meant to last a season. Darling, you are the root of every happiness. You are the passion coursing through your veins And the apple of my eye. You are every branch of an idea you have The practice swords. To the paper that poems to the House you can build for your god-damn self. You are every season . You are every tree that breathes. You get to be seen, dreamed under and dreamed about. You get to be experienced as a constant joy. You get to be celebrated as you bloom and cherished when you fall. But more than all of that, you get to live and breathe for you. You get to create the fruits of your work And the blossoms of your creativity. You get to ground into everything you love and everything you want to be. You get to be you and grow toward the sky every single season.

Burdens We Carry

2019-05-01T17:03:00.001-05:00

This was started as a discussion for a Mothers of Preschooler's class I attended)

As mothers, as wives, as girlfriends, as women... we often find that there are a lot of different aspects about our lives that fall onto our backs. We end up putting so much into our own endless list of to-do's and must-have's that we can feel weighed down, restless and full of endless burdens.

Some of the weight we have lifted onto our shoulders goes by the name of Perfectionism.

We have this belief that we have to do things a specific way. Things must look a certain way, we are hyper-critical and we realize this is a life of "have to's" and "has to be perfects." This is where Pinterest can never out perform us and we believe we should never be a disappointment to ourselves or others. It's a belief that we should never make mistakes because mistakes are better seen as failures.

We ask ourselves questions like "What is wrong with you?" "How did you let this happen?" "Am I enough?" so often that we've built up a guilt. We feel guilty, if we don't fix every minuscule problem. We feel apprehensive for how things appear and if everyone else can see the red flags of mistakes that we have hyper-focused on. We worry that someone will find the flaws in our characters like they can spot flaws on a wall. We feel judgement at very turn and try to show our best self. We don't forgive anything that isn't perfect.

This guilt leads us to work to our hardest, to allow ourselves no chances for mistakes or for down-time or for days where you sit in front of the television screen for hours. We believe that perfectionism is the standard and that standard can be exhausting. We give up sleep to work, we trade our comforts for our critiques. We trade our happiness for our obsessions. We can't find a way to rest.

Another weight we carry is Idealism.

Idealism is this belief in what a family should be, what a child should do and what the world should be. We know there is something better out there and we don't just strive for it, we drive for it. We advise others to be like us, to strive for our beliefs. We push our own intentions on others and we have lots of advice to share. We think we have figured out how life should be. We have read all the books, done all the research and found all of wisdom there is in the world as we use that as our compass.

It is the belief in something greater that you strive for with such conviction that by not getting there you create anger. You get frustrated that you can't find the north pole when you have clearly followed the right map. You judge others for having different goals and you judge your relationships for not living up to your expectations. You judge your children for not being perfect children and your husband for not making his only job be to shower you with love. You become bitter because you know what these things should look like, you become critical of others and use crushing words.

This anger can make you complacent. It can make you lose friends. It can ruin relationships and it can steal your hope. You will stop hoping for something better because clearly it must be unattainable. You can stop hoping for happiness because it wasn't meant for you. You can feel stuck.

Another problem we shoulder is comparisons.

Sometimes we can get so wrapped up in the lives we see elsewhere. The celebrities that lose baby weight like it was a sack of potatoes tied to their bellies. The social media Instagram stars that have found the perfect spouse and live the perfect life. Sometimes the mother next door with the perfect child or the mother who seems like she has it all figured out. We compare ourselves as we think "If only." "If only I was a better mother", "If only I looked like her", "If only I did what he did", "If only I traveled like she is". We believe that our lives, our selves, who we are don't measure up to what we see with others. We think that other people have their lives put together and we don't.

This can make us resentful. We will become jealous of others and stop seeing the best in ourselves. We will pity our own lives and believe that we did something wrong to end up where we are. We will get disgusted with our lives, our families, ourselves.

This resent will make us lose the joy in our lives. We will miss out on the little moments of happiness, too concentrated on the gray clouds over our heads. We will see only the things we are missing out on rather than the beauty right in front of us.

Yet one more issue we sometimes carry with us is performing to be accepted.

Sometimes we put on a show of who we are and who we want to be. This is much more than the "fake it til you make it" more like playing a role in a play just so people will view you as a friend. We judge others, others judge us, we feel broken, defective, like who we are isn't enough. This is the thought that we are only liked when we are being someone we aren't. That if we perform the right way, people will like us and if we perform wrong, we won't be allowed into the inner circle. It is an "if, then" belief. "If I am perky enough/bake enough/happy enough/involved enough, then I will be good enough for them to like me." Our brains tell us that we aren't good enough. We don't do things right. Who we are isn't worthy or worth it.

This brings us to feeling rejected and shame. We end up feeling like who we are will never be good enough. We blame ourselves for our lack of relationships, our lack of friendships, our lack of joy. Whatever our life lacks, become our shame. We wear masks to hide our own thoughts, feelings and beliefs hoping that if we were someone else, if we thought something else... maybe we would be accepted. We can hide in loneliness, accepting that is is easier to be ourselves than constantly put on a show. We can hide in busyness allowing ourselves to become lost in our work so that we don't have time to consider the outcomes. We feel like we must win someone's approval. We become hypersensitive to and even controlled by the opinions of others.

This burden can leave us feeling a lack of security. We are never sure if what we are doing is enough. We aren't sure we will be loved because our dog and pony show may not be enough. We don't believe that love is unbreakable, because we believe our actions are the only thing keeping it together. We don't believe our friendships can last, because our actions are the only thing keeping it going.

The final weight we carry as women is the need to control.

There are times when we feel like all the weight in the world is ours to deal with. We find that we have to do something to fix the issues we carry. We believe that there is a solution out there and that it is up to us to discover it. We believe we are responsible for the way our lives turn out. We are responsible for the lives of the ones we love. We want to know the outcomes and make the right outcomes happen. If it is only up to us, that weight can be unbearable. There are so many decisions to make each day and sometimes, we become paralyzed with decisions. Sometimes we can't decide which direction to go in and so it is easier to not pick, to let the world pick for you. Sometimes it is easier to put off the decision, to decide not to decide so that we can pretend the weight of the results don't weigh on us. It's one of the ways we manipulate our results. Some things we know are in our grasps and some things are out of our control. The more that we had no control in, the more we didn't screw up.

This weight can be the most constricting leading us to fear the future and fear our own choices, to worry about what we need to do. It leaves us wondering about all the "What ifs" all the endless possibilities as we get lost in the future rather than appreciating the moments. Our need to control can lead us to manipulate others and that manipulation can leave others feeling belittled, disrespected and unimportant. This weight has the power to destroy relationships.

The fear of the future places our feelings to rule over our lives. Our worries become our guides and our shackles as all of our feelings and worries are dominated by fear. This weight leaves us without peace. Without peaceful moments or peaceful memories. We can't get lost in a moment when we are too worried about what else it will bring. We can't feel peace when fear is lurking in every thought.

We don't always carry all of these weights and some weight looks different on different people. But we do push ourselves to an exhausting level at times. Giving us a weariness, a growth of anger, missing joy, lack of peace and a lack of security.

Which of these resonates the strongest with you? What in your life caused you to be that way? In my next post, I will write some of the ways we are the reason we are and how we can realign ourselves with the people we want to be.

the fire that divides

2018-10-04T14:00:00.000-05:00

WHACK. A lightning bolt zaps a nearby tree.
Leaving it torn down, withering and helpless.
As the flame licks its lips and the hunger grows intense,
The fire consumes the tree before it, creating authority in the darkened night.
Being the guiding light for the mistaken and the
heat for those who should be burned.
But power doesn't stop at one log, it longs for more.
The next blade of grass, an appetizer
The next field, the first dish,
for the hunger of dominance is insatiable
and the thirst for flames is unmistakeable.
Like smoke from a nearby fire, she feel it come for her.
She's just another course to add to quench the thirst
of consuming life and creating power.
The ash in the air above her, brings her to her knees
crawling as she looks for freedom
Looking for a way to stop the madness.
But the fire has surrounded her, the land was torn apart
The battle in front of her is insurmountable
As the darkness is consumed by the light
Which way is right? Light or dark?
Evil or good? Life or power?
The answer lies in those that care for neither
and instead crave something as subtle as
freedom and air.

Stand out

2018-10-04T13:48:00.001-05:00

I think the hardest part of growing up is recognizing differences as a positive. Finding a way to believe in who you are, not mold yourself into everyone else. Finding a way to enjoy your quirks, find the positive spins on your personality flaws. Being proud of everything that you are, everywhere you've grown from... and everything you are capable of being... by being yourself.

What makes you stand out, look different, act weird, seem uncool today will make you incredible tomorrow.

Lost in our world

2018-09-24T13:44:00.000-05:00

What would it be like to be a member of the world without ever being a part of it. Thinking back to how the world treated the mentally challenged is heartbreaking. They were locked in white rooms and told how stupid they were. They weren't given the opportunity to be anything but the label that they were identified as. They weren't able to grow, to care, to live. Since they weren't going to be "normal" they were treated as a mistake, they were treated as if they had nothing they could possibly live for. Very seldom did they have good things to enjoy. A present from a friend, a smile from a stranger, a walk through the park. The life that was created for them was one of sorrow, was one with few positive encounters, few happy memories, and even fewer reasons to live.

Yet they kept on living, they kept on being... without ever truly being there. They had to find happiness in fleeting moments that were never their own. They had to relive memories that didn't happen to them. They had to create a world on the inside that was so much better than the one that didn't care about them out here. They were lost in our world as they learned to live in their own.

Rotten Valentine's

2018-09-22T18:02:00.000-05:00

God, if I have to see one more cutesy couple batting their eyelids at each other and playing footsy under the table or surprising their girlfriend of two-freaking weeks with dozens of red roses or a box of chocolate that could literally feed an entire country, I think I am going to be sick. Who cares that it is Valentine's Day? People act like that means something. Like, if they act like they are "really in love" today than that all their cupids with all their bullshit arrows will grant them another year of being together through forgotten birthdays, fights about socks and someone deciding on dinner. Give me a break, Amber thought as she served yet another cappucino with a heart frothed into yet another bullshit couple.

Amber sees every year, what a fake and destructive holiday this is. Between her parents throwing dinner plates because her dad didn't take out the trash to her own boyfriend Jake screaming out another woman's name. There probabl was never a time she didn't hate Valentines Day.

No, that's not right. Maybe five years ago, she enjoyed it. The one chocolate in the mud type situation. justin took her to that little cottage in Lake Geneva and spent hours... and what felt like days, making her know she was the only one that mattered. He walked her along the boardwalk and spent time doting on her in all the stores. He arranged a special dinner reservation so they could look over the water at sunset and managed to find the perfect champagne as they toasted love next to the chocolate covered strawberries. It was the perfect date, the perfect night. But upon the morning of the fifteenth... he was gone.

She quickly stopped that walk down memory lane as she shook her head and glanced around her little coffee shop. She enjoyed helping the customers and work her measly minimum wage job as she finished up her college degree. She enjoyed the little interactions she got, but she wished that today, of all days, she wouldn't be the one behind the counter. Cozy Coffee is a cute little shop with darkened corners and books surrounding one entire wall. She had made a habit of staying late and reading a chapter of any book before trudging home to the bills and the homework that inevitably called her name.

As she cleaned up the tables from luckily couple number 467, she realized that there would never be another Valentine's Day that would matter to her again. Because she knows the clock strikes midnight and the prince will turn back into a frog with his apartment cleared out and his phone number dead. It's like he never even existed. Who needs perfection when it only lasts a few hours?

Brrring! The register chimed.
"That will be fifteen seventy two. I will bring it out to your table. Just keep this number with you." Amber grimanced at the goo-goo eyed couple. At least she was working with Claire today. Claire was a 50 year old woman who seemed to not mind this awful demonized holiday. She was just happy to work her job and live her life. Amber and Claire always got along relatively well. They worked as a good team and even shared in a few jokes and life stories along the way. Claire had a way of mothering Amber and always seemed ready to swoop in if ever needed.

As Amber made another drink, she muttered to herself as she put the two red velvet heart-shaped cakes on the counter. "i think I could have gone naked today and no one would have even glanced a second look my way."

I think I definitely would have noticed that." A voice whispered in front of her. Amber dropped the pink frosted scone as her cheeks deepened to match the frosting that was plastered to the counter.

As her eyes, slowly, drew up she noticed that apologetic smile, those knowing eyes, that same wide chested perfectly toned body that she knew all too well staring at her.

"Justin... what are you...? What the hell are you doing here?!?1" The hired violin that was playing sappy love songs to all the suffocating love birds dropped his tune as Amber realized she must have screamed the last bit. Claire rushed over to help the next customer while Amber shook her head with disbelief.

"Amber... it's been a long time." Justin looked a bit out of sorts, which god damnit, may have made him look even more handsome. His light dishwater blonde hair and deep, deep blue eyes started at her with a slight shift downward, as if he didn't expect this reaction from her.

"Claire, i am taking my break." Amber said as she took her apron off and stomped behind her toward the kitchen. It was obviously the employee only zone so she knew she would be safe. She stood as far back as she could, facing away from the door and tried to collect herself while taking a few wobbling deep breaths.

All of a sudden the door opened, so Amber explained what was happening so Claire wouldn't worry so much. "Claire... I am fine... really, it's just... that's Justin... the Justin. How dare he show up after all this time." Amber looked first at the shoes as she turned toward the door, and quickly snapped up the face as she realized those weren't the slip proof pair Claire always wears.

Justin must have explained the situation to Claire. Amber didn't know what he said to convince her, but Claire stood behind him and winked as she went back to work.

Amber quickly walked away again, winding down the hallway and finding the backdoor wanting to be as far as possible from Justin as she could get.

It didn't take Justin long to find her as the symphony of metal hitting concrete echoed from the backdoor. Justin approached cautiously as the tin garbage can still rolled from side to side like a turtle stick on its back. He looked up at Amber, seeing her blonde hair was cute in a new way that seemed to make her look even more irresistable. She was smoking now, something she never would have done back then. But the same, is true for him, as he took one up.

"Amber..." Justin started. "Just hear me out, please."

"What Justin?! Just say what you've come to say before you disappear again." Justin flinched at the comment but reached out for her arm.

The electricity he hadn't felt in a long time, coursed through his veins. Pulsating right from his fingertips.

"Bambi..."

"No... don't call me that. You lost that right, the day you left Justin." Amber couldn't belieeve he was here... in front of her... after all these years... where did he go Why did he leave? How could he have felt nothing so long ago when all she seemed to do around him was feel.

And it still seemed to be the case, a voice said in the back of her mind. His fingertips pulled to her like quick-sand but she drowned last time in him and then again, in her tears when he left. He got away, wasn't that always what she told herself. He was the one that got away... and away he sure got. She had no way to contact him, no way to find out why, no wy to pick up all the broken pieces he had left her in.

But somehow, over the years, she had done it. Somehow she finally felt like herself. She even dated that jackass Jalee for all those months despite the fact she knew he wouldn't be able to keep his dick in his pants. But she got over that too.

"Bam-uh... Amber," Justin started again, "i don't really know how to say this. See, I had it rehearsed in my head that when we saw each other, we would run into each other's arms, not punching garage cans. Good punch by the way," he joked.

Amber laughed a guy clenching, fall to your knees kind of laugh. She thought she might be losing her mind, here and now. "You thought... after all these years, I'd... run... into your arms?" She said as laughter escaped after each word. "Are you mental? Is that where you've been after all these years? An institute and you just thought, oh, I fancy myself a pastry and a side of long lost lovers?"

Justin shifted, "well, uh, not exactly... I guess it was pretty stupid..." He cleared his throat to smile.

"So... let me get this straight, after 5 years of nothing, not a phone call, not a text, not a second thought, you wanted to just... pick up where we left off? I gave you everything Justin! Every part of me! And you just... left... left it there... left me there. So, no, I won't be running into your arms and quite frankly you are insane for thinking that would be so. What do you want Justin? My break is almost over."

"I want to take you to dinner..." he stated while staring into her hazel eyes, sending chills down her spine. "tonight."

"No freaking way Justin. First, it's Valentine's Day. You know the day you left me, scratch that deserted me, five years ago. I hate today. Secondly, it's you. I would be a moron to make that same mistake again. Third, I have no idea where you were and I haven't seen you for FIVE years. Five years." Amber snuffed out her cigarette and all but threw it in his face as she spun around to re-enter.

"Bambi... I'll tell you everything. I'll tell you why I had to leave, why it had to happen that way and the least I can do is provide dinner as we chat. I have no other intentions, but you do deserve to know. Meet me a Clark's diner, at eight tonight. I'll be there waiting." Justin turned to leave as Amber still held the door open a fraction of an inch. "You look smoking hot by the way, I just had to get that off my chest. See you at eight." And with that, he left, without an answer and with every question Amber had told her brain to stop asking resurfaced as soon as the door closed.

Justin said had to leave like he didn't have a choice, Amber thought as she re-entered the coffee shop. Claire walked over.

"Do I need to call 911? Is he alive back there? You are taking the trash out tonight because I do not want to see any dead bodies and become an accomplice." Claire said with a smirk.

Amber smiled, "He left... with all his body parts in tact. Maybe I was off my game a little bit now that you mention it. Well, no matter, I wont be seeing him again. Can you believe he had the nerve to ask me out to dinner? And tonight of all nights! The nerve!"

A bigger smile speared its way onto Claire's face. "Dinner tonight? Well I mean if you don't want to go meet Mr. Handsome, I am sure I could think of someone you could throw his ay. Maybe even someone who gave you an extra break today. I'd like to help after all and he will be all alone, poor guy. And on Valentine's Day of all days. We can't have that, now can we?" Claire's smile burst into a laugh at the same time Amber's eyes shot daggers.

"Gosh Claire, if only you knew... Justin. Gosh where do I even start? He..." Amber started to say how he deserves to be alone... tonight of all nights. That beautiful, perfect night. And alone is all she's been since. He deserves a taste of his own medicine. Amber cleared her throat. "He... we hae a past, and he made it quite clear at the time that's all it would be. He might have been the one who got away once... but this time... this time I am letting him go."

Claire smirked. "Oh honey... I don't think he wnts to go anywhere. As her eyes turned toward the window with the "open" sign on it. Sure enough, out on the sidewalk, chatting with strangers in the drizzling rain, was Justin. His eyes met Amber's and he tipped his hat in her direction.

"The nerve!" Amber yelled as she spun around again. "Well... I can leave out the back. Or better yet, tell him off again." Amber's voice was shakey... almost unsure of herself. She cleared her throat. "No matter."

Claire put down the glass she was washing and took Amber's hands in hers. "Amber honey, if he got away before, now is the time to find out if he's here to stay this time. You obviously have feelings for him and his feelings for you could light up a room... in fact, I am pretty sure they lit up this very room as he professed his love for you after you huffed and puffed to the back. I would take a chance, honey. What could it hurt? Worst case you get a free dinner out of it." Claire rang up the next couple while amber started their coffees. She sure had a lot to think about and a short time to do it in. The sky was already darkening, filling this red and pink day just a little more red and pink as the sun crested over the buildings.

What would it hurt? Amber wondered. What could he possibly do to me that he hasnt done already or that I haven't dremt about as a the nightmare finally woke me up?

He could do it again. A little voice said. But would she care? She's not connected to him any longer, that part of her died when she thought he did. Okay, even she admits that was a dark thought, but one of many she toyed with over the years.

He could be there, be perfect. You could fall all over again and he could disappear again. The voice cried out. But Amber was certain that wasn't going to happen. She would not fall for himagaig.n She already learned the pain he could cause.

Could she really turn down the opportunity to know/ To know why? And why now? She had to go. She had to learn what was worth it... how he could leave their love behind.

She took teh register back from Lori with the decision set in her mind.

"What can I help you two lovvebirds with?" She said with only a trace of a smile.

As her shift neared the end, she helped Claire clean up the shop but continued looking at her watch, making her own skin crawl. She was almost late for her d-nope. She cleaned the dishes as Sherry entered. Sherry would help the rest of the night, until all the lovebirds left.

Sherry wore all black as she does most days. Her slate black hair was bleached to get ready for the next set of colors that would go in. Porbably blood red. She was pretty, in her own way but more often than not, she could scare people away efore they found out if she bit or not. Sherry was harmless, as long as you weren't a spider or one of her exboyfriends. Who almost seemed scared of her than even the average person was.

Sherry was ridged in a lot of ways, yet she also had the ability to wrap people around her thumb Claire was one of those people. Before Amber left, Sherry knew everything that had transpired.

"Come on Claire! You let him follow her back there?" She heard Sherry accuse. Amber turned toward the two gossiping girls as she watched Sherry's hands ball up into fists.

"Amber, are you telling me, that this freak came in her, ran his mouth and then left and he's been sitting. right. out. there this whole time and neither of you have done anything?" Sherry picked up a knife.

"Sherry... it's okay. I think... I am going to go after all. I think I need the closure." Amber said as she grabbed her coat. Her words felt like dirt in her mouth. Like they were something that needed to be said but not something she believed fully. Where was this night going to take her? How would she get through it alone with him?

"Look... you have my number. call. text. Put at as speed dial and if you so much as buttdial me, I will be there. In fact, better plan, in a couple hours when my break is on, I will be there anyway and check in on you guys. Do not go home with him. Do not go anywhere with him besides Clark's. I will be there to pick you up and hear everything." Sherry finished, finalizing the plan.

Amber agreed, it would probably be a good idea to have some back-up and Sherry is scary enough to even make Justin back off, Amber was sure.

Amber didn't work at Coffee Point when she knew Justin all those years ago. And in the short time, she had already worked there, it had begun to feel like home. The staff she worked with, took her in, cared for her and were there for her no matter what. She had friends, an older sister, a grandmother and everything in between, watching out for her and pushing the edges of her envelope.

As the door jangled when she opened the front door, Justin straighened. He didn't even need to look at her for his whole body to respond to the electricity he felt sizzle for Amber. He greeted her and thanked her for joining him.

Amber couldn't believe she was walking with Justin to Clark's. She told him a friend would be by later to take her home, being sure he was aware that she wasn't intending this night to be anything more than an answer to a brain's worth of questions.

Justin held open the door. He seemed taller, stronger... different than he did before. The years didn't hurt him and he seems more sure footed than he did before. Gone is that quirky, shy kid she once knew.

Justin led her to the reservation booth and gave the waitress his name as she led them to their seats.

"Reservations huh? And exactly how long ago did you create this little plan of yours?" Amber asked as she took off her jacket and sat down in the diner booth.

Clarks was a staple here in the city. It allowed her to feel like a tourist and yet eat like a local. She got pancakes for dinner, wanting something sweet to wash the sour taste out of her mouth. Justin ordered a skillet, his eyes looking greedier than he should be at the menu.

"I decided a week ago. I had to... get some details worked out but I figured now's as good a time as any." Justin said as he straightened. "Before we get to me... let me hear about you. Because my part, is the end. You said this is just to get answers. Well I want some answers too. So let's get your last 5 year story out there."

Amber sighed but he was right, she knew the second he would tell her his story, she would leave. She wouldn't dare fall for him again, wouldn't dare spend more time together than she could handle. She gave in, "Alright... Let's start from the beginning." She said with a sigh and then ordered a couple mimosa's to join her breakfast-y dinner.

"The day you left, was like a rush of emotion. It was as if I woke from a dream that never existed. It was as if, everything about you had disappeared overnight and I had nothing to show for it. Did you even exist? I wasn't sure. I looked at your apartment... it was bare. I called your number nonstop for days, but just got dialtone. It was as if you disappeared from the face of the Earth. I thought you died, I thought you conned me. I am not entirely sure you didn't. Or that you are here to do it again." Justin looked down at the table. Not able to meet her eyes.

"I started drinking shortly after. Figuring I could lose myself in a bottle as quickly as I lost you. My parents died a year later in a car crash. I was alone, I was left alone.... again. And I couldn't handle it. I tried dating myself into feeling less lonely. I dated around but I was a ghost of the person who I used to be. Eventually I had to leave school and join the real world." Justin grabbed her hand across from the table when Amber mentioned her parents. She quickly jolted it away.

"It seemed... like one day, I woke up from it all. I had my second day at Coffee Point, my newest worth nothing sort of job. Once, I had dreamed of owning a local coffee spot, these days I was happy just to have a few dollars to my name. But that day, I had finally breathed the air and didn't hate you with every sense of my being, only most. I was able to see the colors around me, taste the food in front of me and feel without cringing and without crying. It was like I woke up from a dream again and this time, I landed in reality. I joined school again. Coffee Point saved me, saved me from myself. Saved me from the person I didn't want to be." She had already finished one of her drinks, as she signaled for another. Her pancakes were untouched and her finger was winding her hair as she gazed lazily out the window avoiding his gaze. Amber was surprised at how much she had shared and how sure of herself she was feeling. She hadn't had this conversation...ever. Even her dreams of seeing him again, always involved tears and voilence and... not this person who seemed so collected and in control now.

"I rarely drink, tonight being the exception to that. I have found a family, that I didn't realize I was missing. Claire, the lady that let you follow me, is so motherly towards me. Sherry, who will be coming by later, is the older bad ass sister type. There is Charles, who is always quick to cheer me up and Luke who is a great guy to pal around with. At some point, I stumbled into the perfect family, and now, now I can't imagine working anywhere else. Not seeing them on a daily basis."

Then she thought of her new family. Claire and how she pushed her when needed but comforted her more often. Sherry who always seemed to have her back. Even the boys helped her feel right at home. Curly, blonde Charles is like having a little brother. His quirky nerdiness allowed him to be the butt of most of the jokes and he always had the right sort of attitude to push it off and joke right back. He was someone to mess with and laugh at. But Luke with his dark brown hair and medium build ... Luke was her rock. She could always depend on him. She knew he would text her through this dinner. Amber knew Shelly would have told him by now. But he would let Amber do what she decided and be there for whatever way the pieces fell when it was over.

"School has lost its focus but at least I am going again. It gives me something to do in those endless minutes between work and seeing work friends when I do make plans with them outside of the confines."

"I am not whole, even after all this time. What you did, scarred me. It left me paralyzed and spiralling out of control. But I am healing and I will, one day, be healed from it." Amber finished her second drink and her story all in the same swallow. She realized that she actually did believe it and even these emotions she was starting to feel for Justin again, were nothing compared to what she one did. Maybe she wasn't lying to Sherry when she said she needed the closure.

Amber picked up her knife and fork finally and started eating the pancakes in front of her. Waiting for whatever he had to say.

"Amber... I am so sorry, I had no idea. I was so foolish and I thought... at the time, I thought it was for the best." She almost spit out her food at the words but swallowed.

"What about leaving me with nothing, alone and afraid for you seemed like a good idea?" She asked again, sounding so much more determined than she felt.

"I guess... I couldn't see it from your point of view. I was so consumed with all the feelings, emotions and struggles I had going on... I didn't... think..."

"You are right. You didn't. You left. Without a second thought." Amber glared at him.

"Not true. I thought about you constantly." He responded, taken aback.

"Where have you been, Justin? Why did you leave me that night? You NEVER called, what could have possibly held you up for so long? I thought you died, I thought I imagined you! How could you do that to someone? Let alone someone you obviously cared for?"

"Okay, okay. Let's start at the beginning. We met weeks before that fateful night. I didn't know what we would turn into and surely, didn't expect what would have happened. But before we met, I was in Basic Training. After that, I was given leave to tidy things up with my family before I was shipped off to Afghanistan. I didn't expect to meet you, I didn't expect to fall and I didn't expect to leave you."

"What do you mean basic training? You are in the military?" It explained his new shoulders and his rugged demeanor she didn't remember before.

"Yes, I am a Marine and have been for the last 5, almost 6 years. I wanted to tell you, the day I met you and every day after that. I wanted to, but I couldn't because if I uttered those words, it would have ended. We would have ended and I so desperately needed something to hold onto. And each day that passed, I couldn't let it end any sooner than it needed to." She bit her tongue allowing him to finish.

"Valentine's Day, was the one memory that kept me sane. I have replayed it over countless times in my head. It was the only thing that kept me going, the only thing worth fighting for. I knew I didn't want you pinning for me, if I told you any sooner, you would have still been waiting for me. I didn't want you to struggle... I see now, that I did anyway. I am so, so sorry. In no way was that my intention. We barely met, you didn't deserve that." Water filled his eyes, yet he continued.

"And yet, I couldn't tell you. That night, that perfect night, if you would have said to run away, I would have. I realized in that moment, with you asleep in my arms that I needed you, every fiber of you to be safe, to be here and I wanted to believe that I could make it happen. I knew that if I stayed in that bed another minute, I never would have went away. I would have been AI and under lock and key notbefore long. I had to go... I had to leave.

"It seems so reckless now, after hearing of all your struggles. I could have wrote, I could have called. I could have been there through your struggles. Why didn't I just tell you? What sort of pain did I put you through? I knew I needed to cut ties because you deserved a better life, but I didn't think of what it would do to you.

"You would have had so many more struggles to deal with. I killed people. My life was out of my own hands multiple times. I... did things I regretted. Things I had to do for this country. Things I had to do to keep you and everyone I love safe. But I did wrong by you, I realize now. I didn't know it.

I pictured this so differently in my mind. I expected us to fall back together as easily as we fell apart. But I can see now... you need something different. I am so thankful that you found a family, after you lost yours and I wish you only the best of luck in finding the love you so deserve after I ruined ours. You do deserve it Bambi and I am sure you will find it."

With that, he went to get up.

"Are you still serving? What brought you back here?" Amber asked, her head swirlling with all the new information. The raw emotions she was feeling.

"I am done. I got out a week ago. I am technically still on terminal leave but I had to try to find you, to see you again. I had to know. So thank you." And with that he left.

Amber stared at her own food, barely touched, the money he left on the table to cover their dinners. She could chase after him, she realized. But she didn't want to. She didn't need to. She got her answers, she told her story and she felt oddly cleansed.

She got up and headed back to Coffee Point to tell her family what had happened. She texted Luke on the way. "Meet me at CP" She said. Then she thought more about him. How he had a funny way of always being what she needed. The cheer up when she was down. The reality check when she was over the clouds. He was the yin to her yang. And maybe there was more reason than not for letting Justin walk away.

As she rounded a corner on the way to Coffee Point, Luke jogged to catch up to her. His hand immediately found hers and they walked side by side. It wasn't magical or electric... it just felt... right. Like there was no where else for them to be. "Sherry called me already. Tell. Me. Everything." He said. And she did. She told him all about Justin, all about who he was, what they did and what they are now.

He listened to every word she said. Surprised as she was about how everything played out and happy to hear her decisions on all things Justin.

"Amber?" Luke said when it was clear she was done talking and off in her own little world.

"Mmmm" she responded returning again to the sidewalk, to their hands, to Luke.

"Happy Valentine's Day" He said and with his other hand he gave her a rose.

As the street lamps turned on they turned the corner into Coffee Point, Luke twisted her and whirled her around and took a moment to kiss her. Amber felt in her bones, how much she wanted that kiss. She took a step back and smiled at Luke. How had she never noticed this side of him before?

Maybe it wasn't such a horrible Valentine's Day after all.

Dam love

2018-09-18T18:37:00.000-05:00

Heartbreak changes people, if not at a biological level, at a spiritual one. There is a reason no one forgets their first love, because no one ever loves the same after that. At first we don't know better, we give and we give until there is nothing more to give and then we give some more. We love with every ounce of our being and believe in happily ever after. We know in our souls that we are blinded, yet we can't give up the reins. And at some point, we lose our battle. The dam breaks and we can't put every drop back where it goes.

Instead of trying to forget that love, we try to overcome and over-compensate for our deficiencies. We try too hard, or not at all. We are guarded, we place ourselves first. We speak up quicker, cry out longer, blame first and we break on a level we can never repair. We scream too much or never. We can't possibly give our all because our all was given and we never got some of the drops back.

advice

2018-09-16T18:32:00.000-05:00

The double-edged sword.

Once I gave advice that iF i want to be loved a certain way, I should share it in that way. If I want flowers, I have to give flowers. If I want attention, I have to give attention. The logic is sound, the process however, is a burden. Why must I give to receive? Why can't I just reap the rewards of loving someone and being doted on for eternity.

Once upon a time, it was that way. Women were looked at like china dolls but they also had to look. behave even think a certain way. So I would rather spend a few minutes each day, sharing the love that I feel, giving the love that I want others to feel, in order to receive it when I need it most back.

Sometimes, I would rather be greedy. But I should always first work on doing more, on being more.

creation

2018-09-14T18:28:00.000-05:00

When I write, I don't create worlds, I discover them. I am an explorer finding the ways on maps that are outdated, in lands never explored before. I find my way by scraping through the brush, climbing the highest mountains and drawing all I see before me. For this land that I write about, was already there, it just needed someone to find it.

When I write, I don't create characters, I befriend to them. I learn about their hopes and their fears, their dreams and their worries. They become a friend of mine that I want to spend every minute getting to know better because they aren't just someone who I make up, they are someone who I genuinely care about.

When I write, I don't create stories, I share them. The stories are there lost in the twists and turns that life takes us on but sometimes we need to spend extra time focusing on a moment, another minute diving deeper into someone else's reasoning, another breath taking in that marvelous sunset. I don't create stories, they... create me.

demonized

2018-09-12T18:21:00.000-05:00

What happens when technology consumes her soul? When the world gets lost, relationships fade, when the reality sets in that this is not her life? That her mindset is not her own and that she has stopped being herself? Will it be too late? Will the demon inside of us have already consumed her before she found the will to power down?

It won't happen like the flip of a switch, but it will happen to her. As her eyes glue onto another show and byte by byte, her DNA seems to alter from who she was to what she will become. She may forget the words to her favorite song. She may forget whole memories in her life and will develop blurry edges on reality. Her cooking abilities will deteriorate, her romantic dinners will be in front of Youtube. Even her thoughts will stop being her own.

And is it really so bad? Why should she be herself when she can be one and the same as the masses. Another extension of the technological arm. She can meld with the group and be just like the rest. Give up dreams, give up direction, give up the drive that always got her somewhere new. Give up creating and breaking and allow failure to define her. For if it defines her, it defines them too and at least she isn't alone.

But does she really want to forget where that small town girl went or why a cookie on a stick was important to her? Will she wake up one day and want to recreate herself from the soup eating, flesh consuming monster that sits in her own hand, that answers every question she can type and begs for her time allowing her to do... and be... nothing. Will she be able to bounce back from the demons that lay in the palm of her hand, to the girl who won't stop believin'? Or will she be too far gone to even care if that girl exists.

slower

2018-09-10T17:59:00.000-05:00

didn't know better

2018-09-08T17:42:00.000-05:00

more alive

2018-09-06T17:28:00.001-05:00

treasures

2018-09-04T17:59:00.000-05:00

at the corner of alone and lonliness

2018-09-02T18:03:00.000-05:00

drowned dance

2018-08-30T17:52:00.000-05:00

You are there.

2018-08-28T17:50:00.000-05:00

never-endings and un-beginnings

2018-08-26T17:31:00.004-05:00

Awoke the sleeping city

2018-08-22T17:23:00.000-05:00

Take more than you need

2018-08-20T21:59:00.000-05:00

Hope moves on

2018-08-18T21:47:00.000-05:00

impossibility

2018-08-16T16:54:00.000-05:00

Streets of Summer

2018-08-14T16:50:00.001-05:00

when the shoe fits

2018-08-13T16:44:00.000-05:00

Brrng! The cash register rang up the perfect size five white shoes as they were thrown into the bag as if shoes were as worthless as a bag of rocks.

This would be the first time that Rachel would bring home a pair of shoes for her daughter, Lizzie. She picked these white shoes over the pink ones with the little bow. Rachel wanted something meaningful... symbolic. The beginning of the new day, the beginning of forever. As white as a blank piece of paper.

Rachel brought that bag to the car and started her drive home. She wouldn't be like the other moms. She would treasure each scrap and scratch those shoes brought. She would probably kiss the floor they walked along. If they are ever used... a little voice said in the back of her mind.

Elizabeth has been diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy and Elizabeth, or Lizzie as her mother calls her, may never walk. But Rachel wants to motivate her and to be honest, probably motivate herself some more... maybe she will beat the odds, maybe she will find a way to get around and maybe those perfect white shoes will know the feel of dirt beneath their soles.

When Rachel turned into their drive, she stopped her car and brought that bag into the house as if bringing a possible trophy... wrapped in a possible disaster. How could she explain to Phil why she went through all this trouble?

How were shoes going to help them take on the days ahead of them? How was she going to be a good mom despite what Lizzie is going through? Phil wouldn't understand. We barely have enough money to pay the rent, why waste money on a pair of shoes Lizzie will never wear?! He would argue.

But every little girl, needed a chance at a fairy tale. and those little white sneakers sat there waiting to be placed on this Cinderella's feet and walk her way into the ball.

They may have to wait in their pristine condition up on the shelf looking at the curly little brunette until one day, they were needed.

One day she must walk, Rachel thought. But each day that passed she seemed less sure of herself. Her gorgeous 2 year old wasn't even crawling. She had no desire to move and the wheelchair. Gosh, did she fight the wheelchair. It all just seems so.. confiding... so encompassing... so final.

One afternoon, Lizzie was watching The Little Mermaid when she mumbled something to Rachel. Rachel noticed Lizzie's weary smile and decided that was enough of that. Rachel looked at Lizzie and asked her if she wanted to play dress up. Rachel got out the Cinderella dress, and crown and even the perfect white shoes for Lizzie to wear. Lizzie looked gorgeous. Rachel even let Lizzie wear some of her make up to complete the show.

Then, Rachel dressed up a teddy bear to look like a prince and invited Lizzie to dance. At first, she swung the bear around in her chair. She moved her hands and watched him fly as she moved her head back and forth. But eventually she put the bear down and used her arms to lift off the wheelchair. She stood holding onto the table and yet again lifted that prince to the air. She held him close and swayed gently, just enough to feel like dancing.

Even if those shoes didn't meet dirt, they did touch the ground and at midnight, or a few minutes later in this story, Lizzie got back in her chair and back to the life she was burdened with.

But at least once, she got to dance and at least once she was a part of our world...

As Rachel went to bed that night, a tear fell slowly down her cheek. Lizzie may never have the chance to walk, but at least, her daughter knew what she was missing out on, and discovering ways to experience it... in her own Princess style.

The Life of Words

2018-06-13T06:41:00.003-05:00